


The World Below Typetrigger Collection

by scriveyner (trismegistus)



Series: Voltron Fic Collection [37]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Drabble Collection, M/M, Microfic, Selkie Lance (Voltron), Urban Fantasy, Werewolf Keith (Voltron), Werewolf Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-06-26 13:43:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 11,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19769404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trismegistus/pseuds/scriveyner
Summary: A collection of micro fics set in the frost spirit! AU and "The World Below" universe. Mostly Shance and some Jaith, with a smattering of Kallura.





	1. little dance

Shiro found Lance out on the veranda, seated on the balustrade with his back to the open doors of the castle. He had ducked out of the ballroom the first moment he was clear to do so, the princess’s retinue dismissed to mingle among the guests of their Balmerian hosts, and Shiro had watched him go with some concern.

The night air was slightly cooler than he was comfortable with but not so cold that his breath steamed in the air. Without a word Shiro leaned against the rail, his elbows set on the rough stone and looked out upon the sprawling gardens below the castle. He knew that Lance would shift closer to him after a moment, drawn by the magic that had sealed their contract, and he looked to where Lance was watching him.

He glimmered still, in the moonlight, and for a moment Shiro saw the specter leaned over him as he bled out into the mud on a winter evening. The memory gave Shiro pause, but he said nothing.

“Too many people,” Lance said suddenly, and Shiro glanced over his shoulder to the crowded ballroom, and realized with a guilty jolt how overwhelmed Lance must feel.

“Would you like to leave?” Shiro asked him, and he saw Lance look back to the ball, and consider. They could both see Keith, unwilling to be parted from the Princess’s side, and knew he had things well in hand.

“No,” Lance said, finally, although there was still a measure of hesitation in his voice.

Shiro touched his face gently and Lance’s attention snapped back to him. Shiro smiled, communicating his intent but Lance didn’t move except to close his eyes as Shiro kissed him.

“How about now?” Shiro asked, soft as a whisper.

“You convinced me,” Lance laughed, and, unhurried, kissed Shiro again.


	2. pluck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frost Spirit AU

Lance twisted the extra beeswax-coated sinew between his fingers. Allura had him practicing with her in the early dawn light; when their breath still misted in the morning air, and he was slowly beginning to feel more comfortable with the weapon. More of his arrows hit the straw target than not, and Allura had favored him with a genuine smile – something which earned a glower from Keith, left to breakfast duty.

“You’re getting better,” Shiro said, and Lance looked up, startled. He hadn’t sensed Shiro sitting down, so enraptured was he in the practice of stringing the hunting bow. “Allura was right, to hand you the bow. Your aim is second to none, not even hers.”

Lance jerked his head, cheeks gone scarlet. “You mock my struggle,” he said sharply, and Shiro smiled, features warmed by the fire that separated them.

“How many days have you trained?” Shiro asked, and Lance fiddled with the bowstring.

“It has not been but three,” he said, finally, and felt the shame rise. He should be progressing much quicker, he knew – but he’d never dealt in weapons before. His staff served more as a deterrent, and as a focus for his magic; this was entirely different. He was surprised when Shiro laughed again, an honest sound from the man, and he shook his head.

“Three days,” Shiro said, and touched a black finger to his lips, the scales reflecting the fire’s glow, before winking at Lance. “Do not tell Keith, for he will be most upset. It took him a fortnight before he could hit a straw target thrice.” He shook his head most gravely. “He is unmatched in the sword, but he cannot strike a bear that is charging straight for him.”

Lance looked down at the bow in his hands, and smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frost Spirit AU

The stone was slick with lichen, though Lance kept his balance with little difficulty. He had a delicate grace about his movements, and didn’t have to stick his arms out awkwardly to maintain an easy gait across the shattered stonework. Keith moved quickly after him, though he carried a sword in his hand and kept an uneasy eye on their surroundings. It wasn’t unheard of for robbers and bandits to make camp in ruins, and the last thing they needed was to be pulling arrows out of their scouts.

“You’re worried,” Allura’s voice was a soft whisper, directly into Shiro’s ear. He didn’t jump or look about, far too used to her magic to be startled by it. He shifted position slightly, in the shade of the overhang, and watched as Lance made a leap from the downed column to a wall support that was jutting out at an unnatural angle. Keith wouldn’t be able to make the same jump; but he wasn’t looking to, his attention drawn by something that Shiro could not see.

“I am allowed to worry,” Shiro said in return, his eyes trained on Lance alone. His heart was thudding in his chest and Shiro placed the palm of his right hand over his breast, trying to will the calm that he felt toward Lance’s heightened uncertainty. There was a soft clatter of stonework as Lance vanished into the remnants of the tower and out of view. Keith remained at his post for a moment, sword held tight and the faint glimmer of magic in the other hand before he followed Lance. They were lost to view, and after a moment Shiro stood, his hand on the tree for support. Lance was untested, yes, but he had Keith by his side and together they would prevail.


	4. air conditioning

Shiro hesitated in the threshold of the cabin, a bag of ice under his arm. Lance lay mostly starfished out on the floor, one leg still hanging on the couch, arms thrown above his head. He lolled his head to assess the threat, and seeing Shiro, let out a long, dramatic sigh instead.

“I want my coat back,” he said. “I’m going back to the sea. It’s less wet.”

“It’s not that bad,” Shiro said, stepping over Lance as he carried the ice into the kitchen. “The humidity will break in a few days, it’ll be nice for a little while and then we’ll get blasted into the ice age.”

“How can you live like this? It’s miserable.” Lance waved just his foot in the air. “I’m sweating so much. Look at this. I started sweating again and all I did was move my foot.”

Shiro smiled as he broke open the bag and filled a plastic cup with ice. “You big baby,” he said, putting the cup on Lance’s forehead and making him squawk at the sudden sensation of cold. He flailed upright, catching the cup of ice in both hands and savoring the feel of it as Shiro pulled his shirt off, moving into the bedroom. “I’m off until Friday,” he said, and cocked his head at Lance. “We still have Keith’s jeep, want to drive up north and see if we can chase down some cooler weather?”

“Isn’t the full moon soon? Like, tomorrow or something.” Lance crunched on some ice thoughtfully when Shiro didn’t respond. “Ooh, does that mean you’ll fuck me in the back of Keith’s jeep under the full moon?”

“Pretty sure that was implied,” Shiro said, as Lance flung himself to his feet.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s hit the road!”


	5. skipping a beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Kallura.

“Be good,” Shiro had said firmly, the motel door clicking closed behind him. He hadn’t addressed the directive to either of them in particular, but his words still hung in the air for a few moments before Keith let out a small scoffing noise and shifted his weight, glaring at Lance on the bed.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Lance said. “I wasn’t the one who let an ancient unrelenting horror loose on a small town because I didn’t feel like asking for help.”

“Allura’s not an unrelenting horror,” Keith said, arms folded and shoulders pulled in tight. Lance tilted his head and gave Keith a measured look, then put his hands on his leg and grinned in a way that sent every one of Keith’s hackles up.

“I wasn’t talking about Allura, but way to throw your girlfriend under the bus there, Keith.”

“She’s not-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lance slid off the center of the bed, his feet hitting the floor. Unfolding like that Keith realized again that Lance was naked, save for the coat he wore over his shoulders like a cloak - despite having being fished out of the ocean with its owner, the jacket didn’t even appear damp. “Allura’s not your girlfriend, you just let her suck you off.”

Keith flushed angrily. “Feed,” he hissed at Lance. “I let her feed on me.”

“And then you fuck her.”

“Lance.”

Lance shrugged loosely. “I don’t give a shit who you stick your dick into as long as it’s not my husband. Besides, we got bigger fish to fry at the moment.” Lance had his hand on the doorknob before Keith realized what he intended.

“You’re naked! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I’m not naked,” Lance said sagely. “I’ve got my jacket on. You coming?”

“No.”


	6. breaker of chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kallura

Allura’s skin had gone ashen in the flickering, reflected light of the old television. Keith had left the set on for background noise before he’d closed the door to the motel room behind him; it remained on the channel he’d set it on, replaying some ancient budget horror movie from decades before he was born.

She lay silent in the bed, unmoving, still as death. Keith turned on the bedside lamp and flooded the room with fake yellow light - her skin tone looked no better illuminated, her cheeks sharply defined and eyes sunken behind their lids.

“Holy shit,” Lance said, hovering just inside the door. “Is she dead?”

Keith sat carefully on the side of the bed, the mattress dipping with his weight. Very tenderly he brushed some of her lank white hair from her face and realized he couldn’t remember if she breathed, if she had a pulse. Vampires were dead - but then again they weren’t.

“No,” Keith said, and rolled up the sleeve of his jacket. “I don’t think she is.”

He blanched in pain when he bit his wrist open, and Lance made a noise of genuine alarm, moving away from the door and toward Keith. Keith held out his uninjured hand palm-up toward Lance to stop him, and tilted his wrist over Allura’s face, as fresh blood ran down his torn flesh and dripped slowly onto her mouth.

Long seconds ticked by, before Allura’s tongue darted out and cleaned the blood from her lips. Keith exhaled in relief when suddenly Allura lunged forward and latched onto his wrist, dragging his arm down to her face greedily.

“Hell,” Lance yelped as Allura, with fangs extended, yanked Keith bodily onto the bed, rolling on top of him in a flurry of bedding. “Sleeping Beauty she ain’t!”


	7. bathroom floor

“I am NOT-” Lance hissed, his voice echoing despite his low tone, and he dropped it further as Shiro shut the door behind him, enclosing them both in the cramped space, “sharing a room with them, Shiro!”

“Would you rather sleep outside?” Shiro was unamused; he was running on even less sleep than Lance and wasn’t in the mood to put up with anything that would keep him from passing out face-first in a musty motel pillow.

“In a word? YES.”

“Lance, it’s like 30 degrees outside.”

“I have blubber.” Lance folded his arms and scowled, as Shiro pushed a hand back through his hair. “She’s a vampire, Shiro. She has Keith under her thrall.”

At that, Shiro did hesitate finally. He mirrored Lance’s pose subconsciously, folding his arms as he regarded his husband. “He’s not under a thrall,” Shiro said finally, and Lance let out a noise of disbelief, going to throw his arms wide but realizing he didn’t really have the space. “I’ve seen her thrall, Lance. Keith is doing this of his own volition.”

“Yeah, okay,” Lance said. “I’m sleeping in the bathtub then, at least that door locks.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Keith’s voice, muffled and exhausted as Shiro’s. “You two done in there? I gotta piss.”

“Piss out the window,” Lance yelled through the door as Shiro said, “one second, Keith.”

They both glared at each other, and Shiro said, pointedly, “if Allura really wanted to hurt you, do you think the lock on this door would really stop her?”

“I’m not worried about me,” Lance said. Shiro pulled Lance in so that he could kiss the top of his head.

“I love you,” he said, “but I’m not sleeping on the floor while you sleep in the tub.”


	8. sneak away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written for @jennypen for her birthday in 2018; RIP my friend.

“C'mon,” Lance said, head tilted back against the bathroom door as he turned the maintenance lock, the metal giving a solid, satisfying click. Shiro leaned in, forearm pressed against the door beside Lance’s head, brows drawn together as he furiously, silently reminded himself where he was and what he was thinking about doing.

“May I remind you,” Shiro said, voice strung tight with the last vestiges of his restraint, “I am at work. Matt is expecting me back soon.”

“Matt’s not the boss of you,” Lance said, chewing on his lip and meeting Shiro’s eyes with a sultry expression that he wore so, so well. Dammit.

“Actually, he is,” Shiro said. Lance put his hand on Shiro’s hip and guided him in closer. “His family owns this bar so yes, when I’m at work he is the boss of me.”

“Boring,” Lance said. “Kiss me.”

“I can’t be doing this here,” Shiro surfaced from the kiss, breathing hard and fast. Lance grinned, his hand warm on Shiro’s neck as he arched away from the wall.

“I can’t,” Shiro tried again, and made absolutely no effort to stop what he was doing, thigh between Lance’s legs and hand down the back of his pants.

“You think about doing me on the bar,” Lance said, reading Shiro like a book while his pants slid down slightly and Shiro puzzled out the logistics. “In front of everyone.” He twirled his fingers in the loose end of Shiro’s ponytail, thoughtful, devious. “That’s not very sanitary, Shiro.”

Lance let out a little delighted grunt when Shiro picked him up, bracing him against the wall. “In front of everyone,” he repeated as he sank effortlessly onto Shiro’s cock, legs tucking neatly over his hips.

“Lance, shut up,” Shiro said, and when Lance smirked, kissed him again.


	9. type

Shiro was doing dishes in the sink when Lance flounced in fresh from the shower, leaving small puddles of water wherever he stepped. Shiro raised an eyebrow - Lance was wearing a towel, but only on his head, his damp brown skin shimmering in the overhead light.

“Put on pants,” Shiro said with only a hint of regret, shamelessly watching Lance’s ass as he rooted through the fridge. “Keith’s here.”

Lance looked up, holding a carton of milk in one hand, and then he straightened and surveyed their small living area. “What?”

“He’s outside,” Shiro took the milk as Lance wiggled past him again, this time making for the front window. “Pants, Lance.”

Lance peered through the old curtains, hand on his hip. “He’s got that hunter with him again,” he scoffed, as if Shiro hadn’t noticed the man riding shotgun with Keith. “Whatever happened with Allura, I liked her.” He wrinkled his nose as he watched the two men unload the old truck. “I don’t like hunters.”

“You were scared shitless of Allura,” Shiro called, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “And he’s not a hunter, not really. You know that.” He passed Lance, unmoving at the window, and fetched him the pants he clearly had no intention of getting for himself. “Keith needs this, let him be”

Lance sighed dramatically and finally acquiesced to the burden of clothing for Shiro’s sake. “You’re always naked around Keith,” he muttered. “Don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Yeah, and you don’t like it one bit either.” Shiro took the towel from Lance’s head, and he gave off an undignified squawk as Shiro kissed the top of his damp head. “Keith and I are gonna hunt up dinner,” he said. “Be good. Don’t scare off James.”

“No promises,” Lance said.


	10. smothered by

Lance woke in the middle of the night, too-hot and crowded to the edge of the mattress. He shifted slightly, searching for cooler patches under the covers with his feet and curled his hand against the coarse thick fur he was pressed against.

He was half-asleep when he recognized that was unusual, and sat up in bed, yawning.

The blinds were drawn, but still a small sliver of moonlight caught the edge of the slats and fell across white fur beside him in the bed.

Shiro was a wolf.

This wasn’t entirely unusual, given that his husband was a werewolf. What was unusual was that he had clearly transformed in his sleep, his breathing as slow and steady as Lance’s had been. Lance stroked his hand down Shiro’s side, felt the powerful muscles under his tough hide, and smiled.

“Shiro,” Lance whispered, the quiet of the dark cabin at night demanding muted tones. “Shiro, wake up.”

The wolf heaved out a long sigh, but did not stir otherwise.

“You smell like a dog,” Lance murmured, his hand scratching up to Shiro’s ear. When that afforded no response, Lance leaned in and kissed the fur along the wolf’s brow. “And you’re too big for the bed like this,” he added.

Shiro wasn’t waking up. Now somewhat concerned, Lance tugged his ear and that afforded a low growl, and an eye cracked open. “Hey,” Lance murmured, hand slowly scritching that special space between Shiro’s ears. “You’re a wolf.”

Shiro let out a small whuffle, raised his head and yawned, and then without preamble settled his snout back on his paws and immediately went back to sleep.

Lance groaned and accepted defeat, slithering back under the covers. “Keep this shit up, and you’re sleeping on the couch,” he muttered, as he drifted off.


	11. watertight

When Lance surfaced the second time, it was with brown hair and a terrified expression that James had never seen before. His heart was beating too hard and fast for him to be rational about this, and Lance was out of reach in the water; if he leaned too far the small boat threatened to capsize.  
  
“Where is he?” James yelled, voice hoarse, and Lance sucked in his bottom lip, lower half of his face disappearing but not those ever-bright, ever-unnatural blue eyes. They stared at James and he was sick. “Where is he?” the second time the words were thready, weak - the terror solidified in his bones. No, no, _no_ …  
  
The waves smacked the side of his boat, relentless and choppy; and Lance seemed to be drifting out of reach. He didn’t care, Lance wasn’t a man, he was at home in these unfathomable black depths, and James had just lost everything.  
  
A strong hand gripped his shoulder and he’d forgotten just that quickly he wasn’t alone on the boat. “Are they gone?” Shiro asked Lance, whose head fully emerged from the water at the voice of his love, eyes flickering away from James with purpose.  
  
“No,” Lance said, and James sucked in a small breath, a broken sob. “But they’re beyond our reach, for the moment.”  
  
“Beyond our reach how?” How Shiro’s voice was so calm, so level - wasn’t Keith his kin, if not by birth than by blood? But his hand remained on James’s shoulder, a solid weight anchoring his reality.  
  
Lance’s nose crinkled. He looked like he wanted to dive, duck beneath the waves and get away from this scene of mortal anguish. “I hate mermaids,” he said with an undisguised noise of irritation. “Disgusting creatures.”  
  
James’s caught his breath, raised his head.  
  
 _“Mermaids?”_


	12. darling boy

Shiro sighed as he closed the front door firmly behind him and Lance didn’t even look in his direction. “You,” he said, passing the couch and heading for the kitchen, his fist full of plastic bags, “need a job.”  
  
“Uhn?” Lance cocked his head slightly. He was draped over the couch, mostly - knees hooked over the back, feet resting on the low bar between the kitchen and the living room. His attention was focused on the television, though how he could keep track of things upside-down Shiro had no idea. “A job?”  
  
Shiro batted his foot aside and Lance’s legs slithered out of view as he pulled himself upright and made a face. “Whoo, I’m dizzy.”  
  
“No shit,” Shiro said and didn’t bother to disguise his smile as Lance pulled himself up, hands on the back of the couch, and leaned over the bar to kiss his husband. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”  
  
“Fish?” Lance asked eagerly. Shiro snorted, and he pouted a little. “We only ever eat venison. I could catch fish for my job!” He lit up at that idea, and Shiro shook his head.  
  
“Nope.”  
  
“What? Why not! I’d be good at it.”  
  
“We don’t profit off of things like that,” he said. “It isn’t right - besides, you’d put some of the old-timers out of business, and I thought you didn’t want to attract any undue attention?”  
  
Lance sighed and sat down on his knees on the couch. “Well, about the only things I AM good at is catching fish and sucking your dick.”  
  
“You’re good at plenty. You’ve gotten this place organized and cleaned up,” he gestured. “Maybe your friend Hunk could get you a job at the diner. Or,” he added. “I think the bookstore had a help wanted sign out.” 


	13. wanted to help

There were very few things that Takashi Shirogane couldn’t do; he was devastatingly handsome, smart and kind and with abs that Lance could bounce a quarter off of - but for some reason he insisted on cooking when they both knew without a shadow of a doubt that he absolutely could not.   
  
“You ate nothing but raw meat before I moved in, didn’t you,” Lance accused Shiro as for the third time in a month a pan was sacrificed to the dumpster gods.   
  
“That’s not true,” Shiro said, and there was an undercurrent of something in his voice that Lance recognized immediately.   
  
“Raw meat, and downtown at the diner. Hunk fed you all the time, I know it.”   
  
“So I ate some take out, so what.” Their first attempt at dinner was put outside the door so the smell of char wouldn’t linger, and Lance stood in front of the open refrigerator and considered their remaining options. “Lots of people eat take out.”   
  
“Lots of people don’t look like one of the old gods,” Lance said, and Shiro put a hand distractedly on his stomach, flushing slightly at the clear compliment. “I’m surprised Matt hasn’t stone cold killed you for never gaining an ounce of weight ever.”   
  
“I burn a lot of calories,” Shiro muttered, and Lance tilted his head as Shiro slid his arms around Lance’s waist, putting his chin on his husband’s shoulder. “Running … and doing _other_ things.”   
  
Lance snorted as Shiro kissed his neck. “Other things,” he repeated, as if he had no idea what Shiro was on about. “Would those other things include ordering a pizza, because I think we should order a pizza.”   
  
He felt Shiro’s pout against his neck. “And then maybe later,” he said, as Shiro’s teeth scraped his skin. “ _Other_ things.” 


	14. tussle

“Pinned ya,” Keith said, teeth sharp and smile sharper.   
  
James let out a small whuff of acknowledgement, the only noise he could really get out with Keith’s forearm pressed so firmly over his windpipe. It was a little more than a pin, and he didn’t have to be so damn smug about it.   
  
“I think he’s turning blue,” Lance observed, crunching on another chip noisily.   
  
Keith maintained his eye contact with James for a full beat longer before he released him, pushing up off the ground and holding two fingers out to Lance. “Two times,” he said, and Lance shrugged his shoulders, leaned back against James’s truck. He held the chip bag out to Shiro, who shook his head, before emptying the remainder of the bag into his open maw.   
  
James sat up in the dirt and rubbed his neck with his hand; Keith hadn’t been hard enough to bruise, but the pressure had left a temporary mark. “I really don’t think this is fair,” he said hoarsely.   
  
“I bet Shiro can pin him in half that,” Lance said, still crunching slightly.   
  
“This isn’t a competition,” Shiro said firmly. “It’s training.”   
  
“Seems more like foreplay,” Lance muttered. Keith walked past him without reacting, although James’s face scorched hot and he didn’t move - at least, until Shiro strode up and offered his hand.   
  
James looked at the proffered hand wearily. “You’re not going to throw me or something, right?”   
  
“No,” Shiro said. “And you’re right, it isn’t fair. We’re all much faster and stronger than you are - but it also means that I want you to be as prepared as possible for any situation we could face.”   
  
James let Shiro help pull him to his feet, and winced as something, somewhere, cracked. “Okay,” he groaned. “Time to tap out.” 


	15. forced smile

James was bleeding - it didn’t seem bad at first, a trickle of blood from his brow, a cut on his cheek but, as Lance glanced down, there was a bandage wrapped tight over his forearm. Before he could open his mouth to ask, James gave him a tired smile and said, “we found him.”   
  
Keith only looked better by virtue of his coal-black coat, Lance could smell the blood in the air. Keith raised his head when Lance tumbled out of James’s truck and hit the ground running toward where Keith lay near the trees. The black wolf was on his feet in an instant, ears back and teeth glinting white in the dying light of day.   
  
Lance didn’t even slow down.   
  
Shiro lay with his back against the tree, covered in dried blood and matted dirt. His hair was cut short, chopped and matted and Lance stood before him, chest heaving, heart in his throat.   
  
“I’ll just be a few days,” Shiro teased him, coming around the couch and catching Lance’s hand, tugging him close and dancing him around the living room to the music on the television. “You’ll barely even miss me.”   
  
“Is he-?” James asked as he caught up to them, and Keith stood, head butting against James’s side until he raised it and set his injured arm on Keith’s head.   
  
“No,” Lance said, voice strangled as he crouched beside his husband, brushing grime and blood from Shiro’s face. He could feel Shiro’s breath against his fingers, faint but present, but the relief was already being swallowed in his chest. “No, he’s alive.” He pulled Shiro’s head in, pressed their foreheads together, and closed his eyes.   
  
“But whoever did this,” Lance said, the rage constricting his throat, “they’re already dead. They just don’t know it yet." 


	16. one letter

“So,” Shiro said, mock-casually, leaning one shoulder against the frame of the bedroom door. “You don’t talk about your family much.”   
  
There was something in his voice that made Lance pause what he was doing and look over at Shiro questioningly. “My family is a bunch of seals,” he said slowly, because while he knew Shiro wasn’t stupid, Shiro WAS human.   
  
…mostly.   
  
“Not all the time, though,” Shiro said, and there was that same fake-casual lilt to his tone. He hadn’t moved from the doorway, hair still damp from the shower he’d taken immediately upon coming home. “They’re selkies, aren’t they? Like you?”   
  
“Why… are you asking?”   
  
“No reason.” Shiro still didn’t move, to come take his favorite seat on the couch beside Lance. The silence between them stretched heavy, until Shiro let out a small sigh. “Was Matt dating your sister?”   
  
“Oh no,” Lance said, and slapped a hand over his eyes.   
  
“That’s a yes, then.”   
  
Lance lifted his hand, looking to Shiro. “Ronnie didn’t see you, did she? Did you tell her who you were? No, you didn’t, you’re still here.” He got to his feet. “We gotta go _now_.”   
  
“Go? Where?” Shiro said, his voice tilting toward amused as Lance pulled Shiro out of the doorway.   
  
“Anywhere, she will _kill_ you, Shiro-”   
  
“Wait,” Shiro said, and pulled his arm free. “What are you talking about?”   
  
“You took the coat of a selkie prince,” Lance said.   
  
“You tricked me into taking your coat!”   
  
“Semantics,” Lance said. “And, they don’t know that.” He put up one finger. “Princes don’t get married to ~land dwellers~,” he repeated in a clear imitation, “Princes serve their people.”   
  
“You already serve your people, by rescuing them,” Shiro pointed out, and Lance gestured wildly, already in the bedroom.   
  
“Try telling that to my MOTHER.” 


	17. got married

“You know,” Matt said, swiping the bar idly with his rag, “if anyone else decided to fuck off for two weeks with no notice whatsoever they’d find themselves well acquainted with my foot in their ass.”   
  
“You know you love me,” Shiro said lightly, carrying the ice bin.   
  
“More importantly, my father loves you,” Matt said pointedly, and Shiro grinned at him. “You can do no wrong in his eyes, he even _said_ if you were gone it was for a good reason and you’d be back as soon as you could be.”   
  
“Yeah, well, Sam knows me like that.” Shiro dumped the ice, a loud noise in the relative quiet of the bar at mid-afternoon. “Besides, I know you’d put me on punishment detail for the rest of my natural life so I figured Sam was the route to take.”   
  
Matt glowered at him. “So why’d you ghost? Better be a damn good reason.”   
  
Shiro chewed on his lip and grinned again, a little distantly and in a way Matt hadn’t really seen before. “Had something important to do.”   
  
“Something important, yeah, yeah. Doesn’t have anything at all to do with that Lothario who was chatting you up here? The one you’ve been eating breakfast with every day this past week at the diner?”   
  
“Stalker,” Shiro called as he disappeared in the back.   
  
“Concerned friend,” Matt yelled back. “You’re acting goofy, man, don’t let him get his claws in you…” he paused, and said, calmly, “Shiro, did you fuck a selkie?”   
  
“What? No.”   
  
“You’re a terrible fucking liar, don’t let the fin folk get you all twisted up, you know they’re related to sirens, right?”   
  
“First off, I’ve been informed that’s a myth,” Shiro said, leaning out the door, “and secondly, YOU SET ME UP WITH HIM.”   
  
“Ah, hell.” 


	18. the subtext

James was sitting across from Keith, chin in his hand as he watched the pedestrian traffic with a distant expression. Keith chewed on a french fry and watched James silently - he’d stopped talking a full minute prior because James was gone, and he didn’t know why.   
  
Abruptly, James blinked and looked at Keith. “Sorry, what?” he said, and Keith took a drink.   
  
“What’s gotten into you today?” Keith asked, and James sighed, tapped his fingers on the table and then shifted so he wasn’t looking out the window any longer. “You’re weirdly quiet.”   
  
“You’re weird,” James retorted. Keith gave a shrug, popping another fry in his mouth.   
  
“No arguments there. You okay?”   
  
“Yes,” James said, in that automatic tone that Keith knew well. “I’m fine, it’s fine.” He waved his hand in the air before him. “What were you saying?”   
  
“You’re worried about something.” Keith cocked his head and studied James intently. “Us?”   
  
At that, James’s mouth quirked into a soft smile. “Nah,” he said. “Not exactly.” He tapped his fingers against his face, chin in hand, before sighing. “More, me.”   
  
“You?”   
  
“Yeah, I’m-” James winced for a moment, then soldiered on. “I’m a liability, Keith, maybe I should take a step back-”   
  
Keith straightened in the booth so suddenly it caused the flatware to clatter. That made James lift his head sharply and stare at him, eyes wide.   
  
“A liability?” Keith said, and there wasn’t anger in his tone, just disbelief. “Why would you think that?”   
  
“I’m human,” James said, and shrugged, before putting both arms on the table before him. “Maybe…” he struggled for a moment, gaze distant. “Maybe you’d be better off if I wasn’t.”   
  
Keith stared at him, and then sighed. “Griffin, you fucking idiot,” he said. “I love you just the way you are.” 


	19. hot rod

“Stupid question,” Shiro croaked out as the Jeep bounced along the unpaved road. Keith was sitting with his back to the coolers braced behind the driver’s seat, using his body as a cushion for Shiro to rest against while his body fought to heal itself.   
  
“Shh,” Keith said, brushing his fingers through Shiro’s newly-short hair. They’d had to cut it pretty close to get the worst of the blood and tangles out, and then used clippers to even it so it looked something like an actual hairstyle and not a fifteen-minute hack job with a hunting knife. It wasn’t unlike the sort of haircut he’d had when he first met Keith, too many years ago … although now, instead of ebony black his hair was a soft, silvery white. “Don’t talk, Shiro. Rest.”   
  
Shiro grunted a little as the Jeep hit a hole, and Lance cursed from the driver’s seat.   
  
There was a pause, and Shiro said, strangled, “Lance is driving?”   
  
“Lance is driving,” Keith confirmed. “We’re headed toward the Marmora base.”   
  
“No, no-” Shiro tried to push himself up from Keith’s lap but he was weak as a newborn foal and Keith was many, many times stronger at the moment. “Hit the side of the house,” he mumbled, and Keith remembered the proud new dent in the front panel of the battered Jeep and tried not to think about the fact that they weren’t wearing seatbelts.   
  
“It’s fine, he’s fine,” he soothed Shiro, arms locked tight over his shoulders. Without thinking he kissed the top of Shiro’s head, felt him still and smiled against the crown of silver hair. “Lance has got this.”   
  
Lance gripped the wheel tight with both hands, and tried not to dwell on the fact that it was Keith cradling his husband, and not him. 


	20. apple core

The best nights, James decided, were the ones they didn’t spend in a cheap motel or sleeping piled on Shiro’s couch. They were the warm spring nights where he stacked firewood and Keith hunted their dinner down, fresh and bloody, and they’d spend the twilight sitting beside the fire, side by side, in companionable silence.   
  
It wasn’t that they didn’t have anything to talk about - they had plenty, often, but there was something about that twilit time where the conversation ceased and they just leaned in to each other, watching the crackling flame. It was comfortable, this space they existed in, and James had never really imagined anything like it.   
  
When the light faded from the sky, Keith turned his head in toward James, and kissed the beating pulse in his neck. James tilted his head back as Keith’s hand slid up under his shirt, palm familiar and rough. They did this so often it was rote memory for him but it never got old, the pinpricks of pleasure under his skin making him shiver.   
  
He caught Keith’s jaw in his hand as Keith leaned over him, palm pressed into the thin blanket by James’s ear, and Keith stilled, panting loud against the crackle of the fire. “Okay?” Keith asked, eyes reflecting the firelight.   
  
He was better than okay, he was practically floating, Keith’s body the only thing keeping him anchored to the ground. But that wasn’t the thought he was chasing in his fevered mind. He swiped his thumb over Keith’s lips, thought about it and finally captured the tail end of his inspiration.   
  
“Ride me,” James said, half-delirious.   
  
Keith laughed without derision. “You,” he said, and jogged his hips. “Have my knot right now. How do you expect that to work?”   
  
“Later?” James gasped.   
  
“Later,” Keith agreed. 


	21. whistles

Shiro was a wolf again, unconscious, when Lance finally stopped the Jeep and hopped out, and he made to crawl into the back with him until Keith caught his arm and kept his feet on the ground. “Let me go,” Lance said, through too-sharp teeth, and Keith said calmly, “you’re not strong enough to move him.”   
  
“Yeah?” Lance hissed. “I’m strong enough to move /you/, tough guy-”   
  
“Yeah, let’s fight,” Keith said, as Lance yanked his arm free. “That’s the most productive thing we can do right now is fucking fight each other, Lance.” Lance snarled wordlessly and turned away, attention on Shiro’s unconscious form.   
  
“So what do we do?” Lance said finally, looking around.   
  
“We wait,” Keith said.   
  
He didn’t like that. Lance crawled back into the Jeep and settled beside Shiro, running his hand through the matted fur down the back of his neck, relieved at his strong, steady heartbeat. Keith remained outside the vehicle, and after a while he stepped away, out of sight. “Lance,” he called, and Lance didn’t move.   
  
A man larger than Lance had ever seen leaned into the back of the Jeep, and put his hand on Shiro’s haunch. Lance /hissed/, flashing his teeth but the man didn’t startle, met his eye and said, in an even tone, “I’m here to help him. We can’t do anything if he remains here.”   
  
“Lance,” Keith said again, appearing beside the man and absolutely dwarfed by him. “It’s okay, I promise.”   
  
Lance wrapped his arms around Shiro’s head and buried his face against his fur, kissing the top of his head before releasing him. That allowed the solid wall of a man to gently pull Shiro from the bed and hoist him over his shoulders as if he weighed nothing at all.   
  
“Damn,” Lance said, impressed. 


	22. old show

The television was the only source of light in the room. Lance closed the door quietly because Shiro was stretched out in the bed and he didn’t want to disturb him, but Shiro lifted his head and raised himself up on one elbow, looking to the door for confirmation. “Hey,” Lance said gently, and Shiro’s exhausted expression softened in recognition. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”   
  
“Wasn’t asleep,” Shiro said, voice hoarse. Lance paused at the visitor’s chairs to deposit his bag, before climbing up onto the bed with Shiro. Shiro went to raise his arm and blanched, looked at the stump and then quickly to Lance’s face to gauge his reaction. Lance didn’t blink, settling against his right side.   
  
“How do you feel?” Lance said, chin resting on Shiro’s chest.   
  
“Weak,” Shiro said after a moment. “But, better,” he added. “I’m alive.”   
  
“Yeah,” Lance said softly. His blue eyes caught the dim light. “I don’t know what I would have done if you died, Shiro.”   
  
Shiro smiled. “It’ll take a lot more than an enchantress to kill me,” he said, and scratched his nose sheepishly.   
  
“That’s what Keith said too,” Lance didn’t look convinced.   
  
“Keith knows me well,” Shiro tousled Lance’s hair with his left hand. “No kiss for your ailing husband?”   
  
“Jackass,” Lance leaned up to kiss him chastely. He settled back down against Shiro, glancing at the old black-and-white on the television for a moment. “What are you watching?”   
  
Shiro stroked his fingers through Lance’s hair, attention drawn now to something far more important than the background noise of the tv. “You,” he said softly, and Lance flushed red, glancing back at Shiro.   
  
“Missed you,” Lance said finally, as Shiro caught his chin and tugged him back in for another kiss.   
  
“Yeah,” Shiro said softly. “Me too.” 


	23. settings

“Stop, stop,” Shiro grunted as Lance straddled him, weight forward on his knees. He paused as Shiro’s left hand pressed into his hip, and looked down at Shiro finally, eyebrow cocked.   
  
“Yes…?” Lance said, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice.   
  
“Sensitive,” Shiro grunted, gaze fixed firmly on Lance’s abdomen, refusing to look up at Lance and skin flushed dark behind his scar.   
  
Lance wet his lips, chest heaving, and rocked his weight, sliding slowly back down Shiro’s length and settling there. His knot was already starting to grow, it strained Lance’s rim for a second before popping in, and Lance let out a small breathless laugh as its familiar girth settled inside him.   
  
“Why, Shiro,” Lance panted slightly. “Are you already gonna come?”   
  
Shiro’s attention was laser-focused, now on Lance’s own straining erection. He shifted his left hand from Lance’s hip to cover it, and stroke it once with his meaty hand. Lance shuddered and closed his eyes for a second, and his reflexive clenching made Shiro moan again.   
  
“Shut up,” Shiro said heavily, and Lance laughed and leaned forward, not rising off his knot. Shiro glanced up at him now, his white forelock of hair gone lank and plastered to his forehead with sweat.   
  
“Who knew,” Lance murmured thoughtfully, grinding against Shiro. “Just takes a few months of no Lancey-Lance and you practically shoot your load the second I sit on your cock.”   
  
“LANCE,” Shiro’s teeth were gritted now, and Lance laughed, leaning back as Shiro continued to stroke him. “Stop - just _stop_ -”   
  
“Talking?” Lance smirked, and then tightened on him, feeling Shiro’s knot swell in response to the stimulus, locking them together in preparation for his load. “Or this?”   
  
“God DAMMIT, Lance!” Shiro caught his breath and with Lance watching closely, finally came undone. 


	24. in the corn fields

James pulled off the dusty road when Keith stood up in the back of the truck, tail and ears alert. He’d been riding the better part of the day in its bed, basking in the sun as the roads went from broad swathes of highway to two-lane, paved roads and finally to a dusty access road bisecting a corn field in the middle of nowhere.   
  
They’d been driving for hours now, since the early morning and when Keith threw the brake Keith didn’t even wait for him to get out of the truck, bounding down the shallow embankment and vanishing between the young green stalks. “Keith,” James yelled, leaning out, elbow hooked over the open door, but Keith was already gone, the only evidence of his passage the ripple of cornstalks in the distance.   
  
James shook his head as the waving stalks vanished into the distance, before climbing into the back and opening the locked hatch where he kept his weapons stored. By the time he’d slung his shotgun over his shoulder Keith had returned, jumping into the open bed of the truck behind Keith.   
  
“That didn’t take long,” James said, and Keith’s form rippled, not unlike the corn, as he shifted to a naked human, sitting cross-legged.   
  
“Had to pee,” he said, and James paused.   
  
“You didn’t scent the ghoul?”   
  
Keith shook his head, and had the temerity to look sheepish. “Nope. Haven’t caught a whiff. Just,” he gestured slightly, out toward the cornfield.   
  
James hung his head and groaned. “Six hours,” he said, and Keith shifted back to his lupine form because if nothing else he could do doe-eyed and pathetic and James couldn’t be mad at him for that, “in that cab, and you just had to take a piss?”   
  
Keith wagged his tail, and James sighed. 


	25. against

“You know,” Lance said, sitting down next to James in the sand. “If you really feel that left out, you can always ask Shiro to bite you or something.”   
  
James, who had been watching Shiro and Keith race in the surf, blinked once and repeated Lance, confused. “…bite me?”   
  
“Yeah.” Lance was wearing swim trunks, but he’d brought his sealskin, the jacket folded neatly on the cooler behind him. “Make with the bitey-bite.” He mimed the action with his hand.   
  
“Why… would I want Shiro to bite me?” He really wasn’t seeing the thread here, and Lance was confusing enough on a good day. Lance sighed loudly and folded his arms.   
  
“So you can be a /werewolf/,” he enunciated, and James froze, staring at him wide-eyed. “Oh, come on,” Lance said. “You knew he could do that, right? He wasn’t born like that.”   
  
“But, Keith-” he’d seen baby pictures. Well, puppy pictures that had been enthusiastically thrust into his face by Krolia the last time they’d stopped by the main base.   
  
“KEITH was. Shiro wasn’t. Shiro’s … special.” Lance cocked his head to the side and watched his husband, the large white wolf, roll onto his back in the sand and come up golden. “Bet if you let him bite you you’d bypass all that psycho moon-sickness shit and come right out through the other side.”   
  
“Okay, first of all,” James held up a finger. “I don’t wanna be a werewolf.” Lance looked unimpressed. “Secondly, even if I did, if Shiro bit me - way to whore out your husband by the way - if he did, I would be bound to the moon and still pretty damn useless most of the time anyway.”   
  
“You’re not useless,” Lance said assertively, nodding his head.   
  
James bit his lip and looked away. 


	26. symmetrical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frost Spirit AU crossover

Shiro shuffled in the coffee line and wondered, once again, how he got volunteered for this. Well he knew it was because he was the only one awake enough to stand in line, as Lance was asleep in the passenger seat, bare feet up on the console and half-reclined.   
  
He gave a little fond half-smile at the thought of Lance’s sleeping, drooling face, and his gaze dropped from the menu board to the line in front of his, ears pricking as he heard a barista call a familiar name over the hubbub of the establishment. “Lance!”   
  
Not entirely uncommon name, but unusual enough that Shiro looked to see who stepped forward to pick up the beverage, and his heart skipped a beat.   
  
It _was_ Lance.   
  
That didn’t make a single bit of sense. “Lance,” Shiro called, stepping out of the line as Lance headed for the door, coffee in hand. He stopped when he heard Shiro’s voice, turning to acknowledge him. “You were asleep, sorry-”   
  
The coffee hit the floor, lid coming off and spilling everywhere. Shiro pulled up short, and when his eyes darted up to Lance’s face he was white as a sheet. “Lance?”   
  
Lance’s hand covered his mouth, eyes wide. “It’s not time yet,” he said faintly, as if he didn’t expect Shiro to hear him speak. Shiro opened his mouth to say something but Lance turned and _bolted_ out the door.   
  
Shiro bounded over the spilled coffee and out the door after him but drew up immediately when he spotted Lance’s bare feet still on the dash and visible in the windshield. He spun on the sidewalk but there was a healthy pedestrian presence from the restaurants around them and if there had been another Lance, he was long gone by now.   
  
What the actual _fuck_. 


	27. thanks

“It still feels weird,” Shiro said, touching the back of his head as he squinted into the mirror. Keith had dutifully trimmed his hair again, evening it out further, while Lance watched from the couch in the living room. “I liked it long.”   
  
“You can always grow it out again,” Lance said, eyes bright. “I like pulling it.”   
  
James stopped washing the dishes for a moment as he scowled at Lance, and Lance beamed at him. “I don’t need to know every kink in your sex life,” James muttered as he resumed cleaning up.   
  
Keith brushed some loose trimmings from Shiro’s neck with his hand. “If you grow it out you’ll look like a biker,” he said, amused.   
  
“If you grow a beard and grow it out you’ll look like a biker Santa,” James added, and Shiro scowled.   
  
“Maybe I’ll just dye it.”   
  
“Nooooo,” Lance disappeared from his perch, sliding out of sight. “Don’t dye it,” his disembodied voice continued, “you look so hot!”   
  
“I look like I’m thirty years older than I am,” Shiro grumbled, touching his short, white hair again.   
  
“Oh, bullshit,” James said. “You rock the silver fox look and you know it.”   
  
There was a pause, and Lance popped back up, elbows again on the back of the couch. Keith cocked an eyebrow at James, who shrugged with one shoulder. “He does,” he said pointedly, “and it’s a good look on you, Shiro.”   
  
“You think?” Shiro was studying the mirror again.   
  
“He’s not a fox,” Lance protested. “Shiro’s a wolf!”   
  
“It’s an expression, Lance.”   
  
“I know what it is, but he’s my silver wolf.” Lance put his chin in his hands and grinned at Shiro. “Still want you to grow your hair out again, though.”   
  
“Hmm,” Shiro said, and put the mirror down. “I’ll consider it.” 


	28. not there

“I think it’s time for a bigger place,” Lance said, brushing his teeth at the kitchen sink. Shiro was blearily shuffling around behind him, searching fruitlessly for the coffee pot.   
  
“My cabin’s the perfect size for us,” Shiro argued, squeezing around behind Lance again and opening the fridge. Lance spat in the sink and raised an eyebrow at Shiro, before turning and pointing toward the table shoved up against the wall behind them.   
  
Shiro rescued the coffee pot from the table, and glumly swished the dregs around in it. “Who didn’t make coffee?”   
  
“I made coffee,” Lance said. “Our house guests demolished it before you were out of the shower.” He kissed Shiro’s check in passing, carrying his toothbrush with him. Shiro sighed and put more coffee on to brew. He heard James yelp when Lance opened the door to the bathroom to put his toothbrush away before opening the front door and stepping outside, onto the shallow porch.   
  
“Coffee thief,” he said, accusatory, as he sat beside Keith.   
  
“Early bird gets the caffeine,” Keith said, mug in one hand and phone in the other. He swiped something off his screen before looking over to Shiro, who had let out a soft noise when he sat. “You okay?”   
  
“Fine,” Shiro cracked his neck. “Slept bad though, Lance was kicking so much I think he made the team.”   
  
Keith made an amused noise into his coffee. “Seals excited to have legs, who would have thought.”   
  
Shiro sighed. “Lance wants a bigger place.”   
  
“If we’re imposing-” Keith lowered his mug, and Shiro held up his hand.   
  
“Not at all,” he said firmly. “But Lance is right, this place is too small. I just don’t know what to do about it, I love it here.” Shiro leaned back on his arm and sighed. 


	29. counting pennies

“What have you got there?” Shiro said. He’d looked up when the door had banged open and Lance trundled through, naked save his coat and carrying a large, damp bag by its bottom. “And why are you dripping? Don’t put that down on the carpet.”   
  
“Treasure,” Lance said, disappearing through to the bedroom.   
  
Shiro gave that about four beats - enough time to finish his coffee - and got up. “What?” he said, and he heard something heavy and metallic hit the tub. “Wait, _what_?”   
  
There wasn’t really enough room in the bathroom for two people, so Shiro hovered in the door as Lance sat on the closed toilet seat and huffed out a noise of exhaustion. “Heavier than it looks on land,” he said, and put both of his hands on his lower back, cracking something loudly.   
  
“Are you serious? Treasure?” Shiro said. “You’re kidding, right?”   
  
Lance gestured at the bathtub. “It’s only a small bit, but this really beats working for a few weeks.”   
  
“A few WEEKS?” Shiro opened the sack. “Is this pirate GOLD?”   
  
Lance shrugged. “I'unno. Gold’s worthless to selkies so we leave it where it lies on the seabed. Not so worthless to land walkers, though,” he added, scratching a hand through his hair. “Don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner.”   
  
“I have no idea what to do with this,” Shiro said, sitting on the edge of the tub. Their knees knocked together, there really was no room. “It’s not like you can take a gold coin and spend at the grocery store, Lance.”   
  
“Well call Keith, then.” Lance said. “I bet his fancy ass organization has someone who can change gold to currency.”   
  
“Even if he does,” Shiro let out a pained sigh. “It wouldn’t feel right. This belongs in a museum.” 


	30. below

Lance stood naked in the surf, hands propped on his hips and staring aghast at Shiro. “What do you mean,” he said, “you don’t know how to swim.”   
  
Shiro was still seated in the soft sand, far enough back from the waves lapping the beach. He shrugged, a little amused at how offended Lance looked by this pronouncement. “Never learned,” he said. “I can float I guess, but-”   
  
“No, no, no, _no_ ,” Lance stormed up the beach to him. He’d started out the day wearing swimming trunks as Shiro encouraged him to do, but given this stretch of the beach was technically private property and hard enough to get to that tourists didn’t bother them there he’d left them, sodden, on the towel. “Did I bring my skin?”   
  
“Always.” Shiro nudged the coat, folded neatly and still impeccably dry, even under Lance’s abandoned swim trunks. Lance flipped the coat open and over his shoulders, completely immune to how ridiculous he looked like that.   
  
“Up,” Lance said, holding his hand out to Shiro.   
  
Shiro frowned at him, suspicious. “I don’t need a swimming lesson, Lance.”   
  
“No husband of mine is going to be afraid of the water. Up.”   
  
“I’m not afraid of the water.” Shiro shook his head but put his hand in Lance’s and allowed the selkie to pull him to his feet. “Besides, if you have your coat what are you going to show me? You’re just going to swim off and leave me alone.”   
  
“Is that what you think?” Lance said, eyebrow raised. They were already in the water up to their knees and he hadn’t even slowed his stride, seemingly unaffected by the pull of the tide. “Thought you knew me better than that, Shiro.”   
  
“Hope I do,” Shiro said, as a wave crashed over his head. 


	31. calculated

Shiro was in the back, running the dishwasher when he heard the unmistakable sound of calamity coming from the front. He wiped his hands on his apron and nudged the door aside to assess the level of threat, before pushing it entirely opening because, what the _fuck_.   
  
There was a naked woman in the bar, one bare foot on the bartop and heading quickly all the way over, and Matt was currently attempting to climb the fixtures that framed the large mirror.   
  
“What,” Shiro said, “the _fuck._ ”   
  
“Shiro!” Matt wailed. “Call her off, call her off-”   
  
The naked woman was standing on the bar, clearly oblivious to her nudity, hands propped on her hips. “Two _years_ ,” she said, glaring at Matt. “Two years, and I find you have stolen him? I should skin you right now, in front of your people. Make an example of you for the world to see.”   
  
Shiro placed himself in front of Matt, staring up at the woman. “Ma'am,” he said. “Please get off the counter.”   
  
“He knows,” she pointed at Matt, “what has become of my brother, the prince. He will tell me, so that I can kill his captor and free him to return to his people.”   
  
Well.   
  
Shiro cleared his throat, somehow didn’t even break stride. “Maybe first get down from the counter,” he said.   
  
“Clothes,” Matt chirped weakly. “Tell her to put on clothes.”   
  
Shiro grabbed Matt by the front of his shirt. “We’ll be right back,” he told her, as she climbed down behind the bar, and he yanked Matt into the back room so fast the door possibly broke the sound barrier.   
  
“What,” Shiro hissed, slamming Matt against the nearest surface, “the fuck is going on here, Matt?”   
  
“Uh,” Matt said. “So, she’s my ex, and she’s Lance’s sister.” 


	32. ecosystem

“So were you ever going to tell me about this place?” James asked, running his fingers through the dust that had settled on the long counter. “Or were we just going to keep living out of my truck?”   
  
“I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable in a Marmora base,” Keith said. He picked up a jacket that was thrown over a couch and pressed it to his nose before making a face and tossing the jacket back. He stopped when he realized James was giving him a soft look.   
  
“That’s sweet,” James said, and smiled at him. “But I’m comfortable wherever you are.”   
  
Keith returned the smile, but then it faltered when he realized James had his hand on the handle of the fridge. “Uh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”   
  
James looked at the fridge, and then back to Keith. “What,” he said. “You forget a carton of milk?”   
  
“Maybe,” Keith said. “Maybe I haven’t opened that fridge in two years.”   
  
James immediately released his hold on the door handle. “You’re kidding.”   
  
“How long have you know me?”   
  
“Not two years.” James folded his arms. “It can’t be THAT bad.”   
  
“If you want to open it, go ahead, but give me plenty of warning so I can exit the premises.” Keith didn’t actually seem like he was joking, and James was tired anyway.   
  
“So, what. We order a pizza?” He looked around. “Do any pizza places actually deliver here?”   
  
“Pizza AND beer,” Keith said. “There should be a take-out menu in one of the drawers. I’ll go change the sheets on the bed before we get too trashed to do anything but fuck.”   
  
“What about the fridge?” James called after.   
  
“Leave it. We’ll torch it in the morning.”   
  
James couldn’t tell whether or not he was joking. 


	33. the survivor

Lance sat tucked against his right side, draining his drink from a straw in the most irritating fashion. “I think I’m gonna call you stumpy,” he said, poking the nub of Shiro’s right arm.   
  
Shiro had his eyes closed - he was supposed to be resting still, although he didn’t much feel the need for it. “They’ll be done with my new arm soon,” he said, “and then we’ll see who you call stumpy.”   
  
“Oho,” Lance slurped louder, there probably wasn’t any liquid left in his cup. “Is that a threat, husband mine?”   
  
Shiro twisted, plucking the cup out of Lance’s hands with his one remaining. “Hey!” Lance yelped as Shiro tossed it into the bin halfway across the room. The cup hit its edge, before falling in perfectly.   
  
“Three points,” Shiro said smugly.   
  
Lance elbowed him in the ribs. “Asshole.” All the same, he snuggled against Shiro in the hospital bed. “You ever gonna tell me how you lost your arm? And got it replaced with a magic, super-advanced prosthetic? And don’t tell me it’s not magic,” he added, tapping one finger to the side of his nose. “I can smell it.”   
  
Shiro snorted. “I bet you can.” He considered his left hand for a moment - when he closed his fist he could still feel the pressure of his right hand, too - then he sighed. “It’s not a story worth telling.”   
  
“Is it the same story as where you got your devilishly handsome scar?” Lance tapped the bridge of Shiro’s nose, and Shiro let out a small laugh.   
  
“I see through you trying to charm the truth out of me,” he said, removing Lance’s hand gently. “I just don’t … I really don’t want to relive that, just yet.”   
  
“You know your past doesn’t scare me, right?” 


	34. radiant heat

The campfire had burned to embers, but the heat of the day still hung in the heavy night air. Very faint, along the tops of the trees there was a subtle glow - the city in the distant, the eternal flame of civilization never far enough away. Lance sighed out a noise of discontent, sitting up on the blanket they’d fallen asleep on, and watched Shiro sigh in his sleep but not wake.   
  
Everything was quiet, in the way a forest wasn’t. It was what had woken Lance, sweat-slick and too warm in the still summer air, and the absence of noise was deafening in its own way.   
  
Keith said, softly, from across the smoldering campfire, “it’s a mountain lion.”   
  
Lance glanced in his direction, but he was already a wolf, tail up and watching in one particular direction. Lance’s heart beat hard, the only weapons they had were their teeth and claws and James’s gun, and James didn’t appear to have woken either.   
  
Slowly, slowly the sounds of the forest at night resumed. Insects and birds and owls returned to their usual business, and Keith the wolf became Keith the man again, standing stock still and staring out the way Lance presumed the mountain lion had gone.   
  
“Are we safe?” Lance asked, quiet.   
  
Keith glanced over at him and smiled easy, and it was weird because he and Keith had never gotten along but ever since Shiro had been hurt it was like… Keith accepted Lance, now. He didn’t know how to take it. “They don’t really bother people, but that one got a little too close.”   
  
“You’re sure it was a lion?” Lance asked, because that uncomfortable tingle remained, the hint of magic he recognized but an undercurrent he did not.   
  
“Yeah,” Keith said, and Lance didn’t argue.


	35. juniper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shance

The great black dragon lay felled in a field of fresh snow. The white wolf approached the beast slowly, though the rise and fall of its chest was faltering, and its once-mighty wings lay shredded and bloody.   
  
There was no chance the beast would rise again but still Shiro skirted it, eyes alert and ears forward. He’d never seen a creature this big outside a museum, and caution ruled his stride. As he came around to its head he realized for the first time that they weren’t alone; a cloaked figure lay against the dragon’s horned crest, and the soft crunch of Shiro’s paws in the snow made him stir, turning to acknowledge the interloper.   
  
Shiro’s heart thudded in his chest as the hood fell from Lance’s face.   
  
No - it was Lance, but it wasn’t, brown hair speckled with white, his skin almost translucent and eyes glowing a preternatural blue. The quiver on his back lay empty, a broken bow forgotten in the snow, and Lance stared at Shiro with wonder and fear in his eyes.   
  
The black dragon gave a shuddering gasp and exhaled its final breath. Lance choked out a broken noise, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to the dragon’s rough skin - and as Shiro watched he seemed to dissolve entirely into the snow.   
  
Lance’s hand closed on Shiro’s shoulder and he was awake, chest heaving as he flung himself upright, disoriented by the darkness and the heat. “Shiro, Shiro,” Lance said, grabbing at him now, both hands on his shoulders, warm and familiar. “You were having a nightmare, it’s all right-”   
  
He looked at his husband wildly, the image of a pale, shattered Lance dissolving into snowflakes still fresh, and pulled Lance close. “It’s okay,” Lance said, patting his back. “It was just a dream." 

Shiro closed his eyes, pressing his face to Lance’s, and wondered. 


	36. off-label use

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jaith drunken shenanigans

James grumbled into the pillow as a wet nose pressed behind his ear. He was exhausted, eyes gummy and when he finally managed to squint them open it was still dark. “Wh-?” he mumbled, trying valiantly to keep his eyes open and mostly failing.   
  
The cold nose had transformed into hot breath, brushing along the shell of his ear. “Wan’ fuck,” Keith slurred, and James dropped his head back into the pillow and made an attempt at just straight-up going back to sleep. It wasn’t to be, as Keith caught his ear with teeth that were just a bit too sharp to be entirely human, and rutted against James’s backside.   
  
“You’re drunk,” James said, and yawned.   
  
“So ’re you,” Keith mumbled, pulling at James’s boxers.   
  
“Not that drunk-” Keith succeeded in divesting him of his undergarments, and James rolled a little, kicking at Keith. A werewolf might be ready and able to go whenever he wanted but James wasn’t so drunk as to realize how bad an idea that was right now. “Keith, stoppit-”   
  
Keith caught his ankle and turned him on the bed, crawling between his legs, naked cock dragging heavy against Jame’s flaccid dick. Oh, okay, THAT wasn’t quite as bad an idea, and James shifted, letting Keith rut against him again. “Okay?” Keith mumbled, and James groaned at the small amount of friction between them.   
  
In response, James pressed their cocks together with his hand, and Keith let out a happy whine, thrusting raggedly into James’s tight grip. The sensation was good, but not nearly enough for him - but Keith came quickly, happily growling as his release spurted, sticky between their bodies.   
  
“Okay,” James said, eyes still barely open. “You good? Because I’m going back to sleep.”   
  
Keith, sprawled heavy atop him, let out a soft snore. 


	37. spherical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shance + jaith

It was unusual for Shiro to come home from work and not find Lance starfished out on the most comfortable available surface, but not so strange that it threw up any alarms. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it in the laundry pile by the bed, and opened the door to the bathroom, where he froze in place.  
  
There was a fat baby seal laying in the bathtub.   
  
The seal looked up at Shiro and barked, slapping its tail against the water remaining in the tub, and Shiro slowly closed the door.   
  
He knew the size of seals very well now, and that definitely wasn’t Lance, familiar patterning on his coat notwithstanding. After a moment, Shiro cracked the door open again, and the baby seal eyed him suspiciously. Once again, Shiro closed the door.   
  
“Lance!” he yelled, although the cabin was small enough that his husband couldn’t hide easily.   
  
He stood on the porch with his hands on hips and glared at James’s truck as it rumbled up the overgrown gravel drive. “I’ve been trying to call you,” he said, as James threw the truck into park.   
  
“Sorry,” James said. “My cell phone got, uh.” He glanced over his shoulder, and sighed. “Eaten.”   
  
“Where’s Keith? Have you seen Lance? Do you have any idea,” Shiro gestured at the cabin behind him, “why there’s a baby seal in my bathtub?”   
  
“Yeah,” James said. “Hang on.”   
  
He dropped the hatch on the pickup and a small black ball of fur unfolded, ears alert and tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.   
  
“You have got to be kidding me,” Shiro said, as James picked up the wolf pup. He looked back at the cabin. “So that’s actually…” he pushed his prosthetic hand back through his short hair and exhaled. “Well, _fuck_.” 


	38. perfume

Shiro wasn’t really awake when Lance nuzzled the back of his neck, the warm rush of his breath enough to pull Shiro from his light doze. He rumbled something that lacked syllables, inquisitive enough that Lance’s mouth left his skin and Shiro whined at the sudden absence of familiar warmth.   
  
“Sorry,” Lance’s voice a low murmur, still sleep-heavy, weighted like Shiro’s limbs tangled in the sheets. “Did I wake you?”   
  
“Mmm,” Shiro’s voice was hoarse, still raw. “What’re you doin’?”   
  
“Smelling you.” Lance’s fingers made contact with Shiro’s bare shoulder, fingertips brushing down over a faint scar that hooked down over his shoulder blade. Shiro snorted, and Lance leaned in close again, so that his breath rushed warm over the shell of Shiro’s ear. “Tasting you.”   
  
“Not food,” Shiro said, and his words rolled slightly into a yip as Lance bit his shoulder gently, teeth needle-sharp. “Don’t bite!”   
  
Lance licked over the brief impression of his teeth on Shiro’s skin. “Make me stop,” Lance teased, and Shiro shifted, meaning to pull his arm free and correct Lance. Lance was faster though, and more awake - and, as Shiro remembered, face now shoved into the pillow - equally as strong.   
  
“Mmf,” Shiro managed, turning his face out of suffocation zone. “Not fair.”   
  
Both of Lance’s hands dug into Shiro’s shoulder blades, palms pressing into the muscle as he straddled Shiro’s lower back. The pressure was good, although Lance clearly wasn’t interested in giving a massage. He leaned close, and nestled his nose against the protrusion of Shiro’s spine, almost purring to himself.   
  
Then, he lifted his head and gently bit the nape of Shiro’s neck.   
  
Shiro jerked, and let out a soft moan. “Lance,” he said, breathless, and imagined he could feel the shape of Lance’s smile pressed into his skin. 


	39. no credit card required

James returned from a provisioning trip with a collar and lead and a small, shallow plastic pool. “He’s going to murder you when he finds out you put a leash on him,” Shiro said, holding the squirming, bite-y black ball of fur as well he could as James attached the lead.  
  
“He’ll deal. I don’t want to chase down a wolf pup in these woods.”  
  
Lance was marginally easier to deal with, although the seal twisted and flopped about in Shiro’s iron grip before he was safely deposited in the slightly-larger but shallow plastic pool. Shiro squatted by the pool as the hose slowly filled it, watching the seal roll around in the water and wondering what the fuck sort of madness they’d stumbled into this time.  
  
“No stupid questions, right,” James said as he sat down on the edge of the porch. Keith’s lead didn’t go quite as far as where he sat so he had to get up and move closer, because Keith had begun to whine at a pitch that would put everyone’s teeth on edge.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“So, that’s a bag of pirate gold in the bathroom, right?”  
  
Shiro blinked and finally looked over at James, then remembered that he’d shoved the sack under the sink after they’d washed the bullion in the tub. “You don’t think that has anything to do with this,” he said. “Keith wasn’t even here.”  
  
“Nah, I just was wondering if it was real or not.”  
  
Shiro laughed, and tilted his head forward. Lance rolled around in the water, scooting himself across the small pool and turning over on his back, barking slightly at Shiro. “Have you heard from the Blade yet?”  
  
“Not yet,” James said with a sigh. “What are we gonna do?”  
  
Shiro shook his head. “I have no idea.”


End file.
